


Harry Potter -- Pureblood Slytherin

by Wasg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:18:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasg/pseuds/Wasg
Summary: Harry Potter is adopted by the Malfoy's shortly before he turns 10 years old. How will Hogwarts and the wizarding world react to a Harry that acts like a Pureblood Slytherin?





	Harry Potter -- Pureblood Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own Harry Potter, otherwise this would not be "fanfiction" it would be "canon"

Harry was sitting in the garden in front of the Dursley house, pulling weeds from in between the bushes and flowers. It was a cool spring day, just after lunch and Harry was almost done with this section of the garden. Vernon was on a tirade inside after a poor day at work, so Harry would take his sweet time returning to the kitchen of number 4 Privet Drive to avoid his angry uncle. 

With a sigh, Harry returned his attention to his chore and continued to pull the weeds from the beds. The dirt pushed between his fingers and got stuck under his nails as he dug for the roots of his latest victim. His wild, untamable hair fell in his eyes as he looked down, blocking part of his vision. The root was tossed over his shoulder into the pile forming behind him, and he reached up to push back the hair covering the better part of his face. 

Dirt smudged on his forehead, arms, and hands, Harry stood, gathering his pile of discarded weeds, and walked towards the compost bin on the side of the Dursley home. Vernon’s angry voice carried out of the open window, terse words that combated the voice of the TV news anchor echoing throughout the house. Harry ducked down out of his line of sight and continued down the side of the house towards the bin. 

A loud crash thundered above Harry. He dropped the weeds and ducked to the ground. Peering up, he didn’t see an immediate danger, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t coming. 

“DUDLEY!” Vernon hollered. A string of swear words followed the exclamation as Vernon lumbered towards the stairs to reprimand his son. Harry breathed a quick sigh of relief, and bent down to pick up the weeds he had dropped during his scare. Walking the last few steps to the bin, he thought about the rapidly approaching summer and how he could spend his time then. 

Reaching the bin, he deposited the weeds and turned around towards the front of the house. Vernon’s stern voice carried to his ears again, but this time it was from above him in Dudley’s room rather than the sitting room he was destined to walk by again. Thankful for the short reprieve, Harry hurried past the open sitting room door and returned to the relative safety of the front garden. 

Harry sunk to his knees and crawled through the next set of bushes. His hands once again pushed through dirt to rip up the weeds from their base. Plants flew over his shoulder as he mercilessly tore them from the ground. Boredom was setting in and Harry was eager to be done with his chore so he could relax on the ground he currently labored on. 

Harry heard Vernon’s heavy footfalls coming down the stairs and paused in his work so his uncle would not see plants being tossed in the air. The last thing he wanted to do was gain the attention of an angry Vernon Dursley. But lucky for him, someone else managed to distract Vernon from discovering Harry. 

A sharp crack echoed throughout the street. Harry jumped in place, but remained crouched under the window Vernon had been looking out of as he travelled down the stairs. Petunia’s screech sounded from the kitchen as she dropped something in her sudden fright, and Vernon roared in anger, thinking that his beloved son had thrown something again. 

“DUDLEY DURSLEY!” he shouted. “If you make one more sound before dinner the next meal you get will be breakfast!” Harry pressed his hand against his mouth, trying to muffle the giggles as Dudley denied making the sound, angering Vernon further. 

“Daaddd,” Dudley’s voice whined out. “It wasn’t even me!” Vernon growled in barely controlled rage and stomped up the stairs towards his disobeying son. Harry bit his hand as his laughter became almost impossible to hold back. He drew back from the window and out of the bushes as Vernon disappeared from view. With a glance at the front door, Harry scooped up the weeds and began to walk towards the compost bin again. 

“Excuse me,” a sharp voice intoned behind him. Harry gasped, dropped the weeds, and spun around, coming face to face with the weirdest boy he had ever seen. The boy had almost white-blond hair, and was wearing a long black dress over a white dress shirt with a tie. He was as pale as a ghost, slightly taller than Harry, and carried with him an air of importance that was hard to fake. 

As Harry looked up to make eye contact with the strange new boy, he saw the upper lip of the newcomer curling in what appeared to be disgust. Harry then remembered, to his extreme embarrassment, that he had dirt on his face and that his hair was a mop dangling from the top of his head. 

“Yes, hi how are you?” the boy asked, but left no chance for Harry to reply. “Great, glad to hear it. Have you seen a tall, blond man coming through here? I know he… came here, but I don’t know if he is still around.”  
Harry confusedly glanced up and down the street, checking to see if a man nearby fit the description he had been given. He didn’t recall anyone like that, but since he had been in the bushes the fellow might be nearby even though he did not see him. 

“Do you think I have not already looked up and down this street?” the boy in front of him asked with an undercurrent of annoyance. “I asked if you had seen anyone earlier, not at this moment.” 

Harry blushed a little, before shaking his head no. With a sigh, the other boy turned on his heel and strode away from Harry, no thank you or goodbye. Harry rolled his eyes and turned away from the stranger as well, no point in being nice to someone when they obviously didn’t care. Suddenly, another loud crack sounded right behind Harry, and he whirled around to look directly at the tall blond man described to him earlier. 

The boy mumbled some words of thanks under his breath before walking back towards the man and Harry. Harry looked up to meet the eyes of the man before him. He too was wearing a long black dress, and resembled the boy he had seen earlier. Speaking of, the boy had returned and was now glaring at Harry as if he had purposely hidden the man’s whereabouts. 

“Father,” the boy said simply. The man did not even look in his direction, opting instead to stare at Harry. Feeling creeped out, Harry took a small step backward. Something was not right here, that man randomly appeared after his strange son came looking for him. Something was wrong. Harry took a large step back now, worry beginning to fill him. 

Vernon’s voice suddenly echoed out onto the lawn as he resumed another tirade against Dudley for apparently making the third cracking noise. This drew the man’s attention away from Harry and towards number 4. The boy craned his neck to look around Harry towards the house as well. 

“Is this where you live?” the man asked softly. Harry swiveled around to look at him in surprise. It was pretty weird to ask a young child where there home was, especially if you are a complete stranger wearing a dress. An uncertain look crossed Harry’s face, before he nodded. 

“How…. quaint,” the man said, barely heard above the tones of Vernon’s incessant rage. “What is your name?”

“Harry,” Harry replied. 

“Do you have a last name?” the man sneered. The boy scoffed and turned away from Harry and number 4. 

“Potter,” Harry said quietly. “My name is Harry Potter.” The boy gasped and turned around with an open mouth. The man took a step back in shock, and his open mouthed expression mirrored that of his son. Confused, Harry moved further away from the pair. 

“You!” the boy said. “You are Harry Potter?!”

“Yes,” Harry said quietly, his eyes moving rapidly from father to son as he watched them recover from an apparent surprise. The father shook himself suddenly, and stepped up to extend his hand to Harry. 

“Lucius Malfoy,” he drawled. “I am honored to meet your acquaintance Mr. Potter. This is my son Draco, he is the same age as you. We live in Wiltshire and are just travelling through… here today.” 

Harry grasped his hand and was taken aback by the firm grip with which Lucius shook his hand. Their hands dropped, and then Harry’s hand was clasped again by Draco, who seemed beyond eager to meet him now that he knew his name. 

“Hi,” Harry replied. “I am Harry, I live here with my aunt, uncle, and my cousin.” 

“Where are your parents?” Mr. Malfoy inquired sharply. 

“They died in a car accident when I was a baby,” Harry replied sadly. The Malfoys exchanged a glance before turning back around to Harry. Draco had a massive grin on his face, while Lucius appeared unaffected by the response. 

“Harry,” Lucius said. “What if I told you that is not how your parents died?” Harry gasped and took several steps away from the Malfoys, retreating towards the Dursley home. 

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked loudly, abandoning his silence. “My aunt and uncle told me themselves, and I don’t even know you!”

“They lied to you,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Harry, I knew your parents. James and Lily.”


End file.
